Flimsy Excuses
by Malvolia
Summary: Lex drops by the offices of The Torch...and not for the first time. Chloe is left to wonder if he was really looking for Clark.... Set sometime during the third season.
1. Looking for Clark

**Flimsy Excuses**

Chloe Sullivan was at her wits' end. She had to finish an article for _The Torch_, edit four articles that had been turned in late, lay the whole thing out, print it, and distribute it. By 7:00 a.m. the next morning. She would probably be at _The Torch_ office until at least 9:00 p.m.; she had already asked Clark to bring her a sandwich or something around dinner time. "Surprise me," she had said when he asked what she wanted, waving him out the door dismissively. She was harried and operating on way too little sleep and every single nerve was on edge. She loved it.

She had just clicked on a link to download the last file she needed for her article when there was a knock on the open office door. She whirled around in her chair so swiftly and haphazardly that she almost knocked over her cappuccino. She gasped as she grabbed it, then released her breath in a sigh of relief. She looked up to see Lex Luthor standing in the doorway.

_Talk about surprises_, she thought. Although, come to think of it, Lex had been stopping by pretty regularly lately. She frowned slightly as she tried to remember the reasons for his previous visits. A lot of them had been rather flimsy….

"Is this a bad time?" he asked.

"What?" she said, coming back from her thoughts and finding herself surprised again that he was standing there. "Oh, no," she said, shaking her head to clear it. "Not at all. I always have time for one of the biggest donors to the school."

His genial expression faltered for half a moment, but no longer. "As my father always says," he said, "money clears a lot of schedules."

"I didn't mean…."

He made a dismissive motion and took a few steps into the room. "What are you doing here this late on a Friday afternoon?"

Chloe glanced at the clock on her computer. "It's not even 5:30 yet," she said. "And on the day before we go to press? It isn't late until at least four hours from now."

"Still," he said, "I should think you'd have something better to do with your Friday nights."

She rolled her eyes. "You're the only one who thinks so," she said. "Anyway, you're not exactly the asocial type, and yet here you are."

"'Asocial,'" said Lex, nodding appreciatively at her word choice. "Most people would say 'antisocial.'"

"'Antisocial' is for lunatics and homicidal maniacs," said Chloe, resizing a photo for the front page. She flashed him a quick grin. "You're not either of those."

"Yet," said Lex, grinning back.

She laughed and stood up from her desk, stretching slightly and blinking rapidly. Her eyes were drying out from staring at her computer screen for so long. "And to what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

"'Honor,'" said Lex, with a mock shiver. "And I'm not even wearing a tie."

"Pleasure, then," she amended.

"Much better," he said. "Actually, I was looking for Clark. Is he around?"

Chloe looked at him incredulously. "Clark? Around _The_ _Torch_? This late on a Friday afternoon?"

"You said it wasn't late."

"Well, yeah, not unless you _have_ a social life."

"I thought _The Torch_ was your life, Chloe."

"For better or for worse," she sighed.

"So…Clark is…."

"Out with Lana," said Chloe. "Or following Lana. Or thinking about Lana. He's out doing something Lana-related, I'm sure. He and half the other guys in this town."

"I'm really tuned in to other people's emotions," said Lex, "so it probably won't shock you to hear that I sense some small amount of bitterness here."

"Oh, I…I didn't mean it to come out like that," said Chloe. "That is, I didn't mean it to come _out_. Don't pay any attention to me; I'm always a little edgy the night before we go to press."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"Not really," she said. "Lana's practically perfect in every way, and any guy with eyes in his head would have to be an idiot not to want to be with her. What's to discuss?"

Lex leaned against a file cabinet. "You know," he said, "I used to be extremely self-conscious about being bald. I thought it would make people think I was weak. I thought they would pity me, never be able to see past the lack of hair to think of me as a functioning person. I thought women would find me unattractive…."

Chloe snorted. "I don't think that's proved to be a problem."

"No," he said, taking another step towards her to emphasize his point, "no, in a lot of ways just being bald has actually made me stronger, because I've had to fight for the recognition I know I deserve. Funny how we can't see ourselves as others see us, isn't it?"

"Yeah," said Chloe, her forehead pulling into a frown of concentration again. "Funny."

Lex looked down at that frown of concentration and realized that the fact that he had to tilt his head down to meet her eyes meant that he was standing too close to her. He didn't move. She seemed to sway slightly where she stood, as if unsure of herself, but she held her ground. He opened his mouth to speak….

The computer beeped, and Chloe rushed back to it. "I don't have time for this," she said, leaning over the desk to open the file that had just downloaded.

"Of course," he said. "I should go."

"We could talk about it later," said Chloe, tossing the comment over her shoulder off-handedly. "Maybe over coffee at the Talon?"

Lex smiled. "Is this an interview or a date?" As her face flushed, all the warning klaxons in Lex's head began shrieking. _Too far; it's gone too far_. Everything he had been telling himself for the past few months—everything about how he wasn't flirting; and how she wouldn't take it as flirting even if he _were_ flirting (which he wasn't), because he would be so subtle about it; and how even if she thought he was flirting (which he absolutely wasn't), she would just brush him off anyway, because she'd realize that she could have her pick of men and for someone like Chloe, Lex Luthor would be near the bottom of her list—all of that was suddenly revealed for what it was: hollow and meaningless. Because he had been flirting. And he had wanted her to notice. Now it looked as though she had—and if his flirting had been anywhere near as transparent as her expression right now, he had been grossly deluding himself about his capacity for subtlety.

He came back to the moment and found that the silence was dragging on. How long had it been? Five seconds? Five minutes? It was hard to tell.

He had to say something, but he wasn't sure what to say. All he knew was that it couldn't be the truth. Even if it weren't for the fact that she was underage, he already liked her too much to let her get involved with someone like him.

"I can't say I'm not flattered," said Lex, and as he said it he knew he shouldn't even have admitted that much, "but you're…"—_beautiful? funny? intelligent? off-limits?_—"…young. I'm sorry." He turned to leave.

"I don't think of myself as young," she protested.

He stayed where he was, facing away from her, but he turned his head back towards her ever so slightly as he said, almost too quietly for her to hear, "But you are."

"Okay, whatever," she said, moving quickly to place herself between him and the door, "but you're no Methuselah yourself."

"Chloe," he snapped, his eyes sparking dangerously, "youth has nothing to do with years."

"I know you haven't been the poster child for moderation, but that's…."

"In the past?" he interrupted, and laughed mirthlessly. "You have no idea."

"I believe people can change," she persisted. "I believe you've changed."

"Do you?" he asked. "I'm not sure that I do."

"Not sure of which?"

"Chloe, you're too young to understand," he repeated. Seeing her about to protest again, he continued, "Too young in the way that years have nothing to do with. I hope you always will be."

"I could be good for you," she said, evidently without thinking, and evidently stopping herself from cringing by a near-herculean effort.

He grew distant, professional, closed off. "I wish I could say the same. As it is…."

"It's okay, Lex," said Chloe. "Really. I…I don't know what I was thinking. With Clark and Lana…and then…. It's hard being alone sometimes. It confuses you. It…." She saw his thoughtful expression and broke off with a nervous laugh. "And this isn't helping at all. Sorry. Just…just forget I ever said anything."

"Deal," he said, knowing from long experience that this was exactly the sort of conversation none of the participants ever forgot. "And for what it's worth…."

"No, no," she said. "Please, no pity." She walked back to her desk, sat down, and began reading over the recently downloaded file.

He stood studying her. Too long. She looked up at him inquisitively, suddenly a reporter again.

"Lex," she said, "the door is behind you." He could hear the humor creeping back into her voice as she added, "Or was there still something you wanted?"

He forced a polite smile and turned to leave, trying to remember his original reason for stopping by, and trying to stop himself from imagining a reality in which Chloe Sullivan was as truthful and persistent in her affection for him as she had always been in her affection for Clark Kent.

He knew she was right about one thing: being alone for too long could certainly confuse you.


	2. How am I Delusional? Let Me Count the Wa...

_Stupid, stupid, stupid. Chloe Sullivan, you have a chronic case of foot-in-mouth disease._

Chloe swiveled around 360 degrees and stared absent-mindedly at the printer as it spit out copy after copy of the _Torch_. She was replaying her latest encounter with Lex Luthor in her head. She had asked him out. Well, as good as asked him out. _Asking him to continue a conversation over coffee...who do you think you are?_ And Lex, king of nuance and innuendo, had certainly picked up on what was behind her invitation.

Chloe sighed. What would make Lex, who could have any woman he wanted in Smallville—or, for that matter, Metropolis—interested in Smallville High's mutant magnet? One who was, as far as most other men were concerned, professionally unrequited? It wasn't like she was much of a challenge. Flash her a smile and watch her knees turn to Jell-O. She was sure Lex had enough self-confidence that he didn't need to play susceptible high school girls to get an ego boost.

But what if he was serious?

What if when he looked at her he saw that she was genuine, and open, and honest, and all the things he had missed in his life by growing up a Luthor (and being best friends with Clark, for that matter)? What if he liked that she wasn't afraid of him?

Helen was never afraid of him.

Neither was Desiree, for that matter.

Or Victoria.

_Face it, Chloe...he's been burned more than you have._

At least that was something they had in common.

Chloe sighed. Beyond that, they didn't have that much in common. Born in Metropolis, lived in Smallville, friends with Clark and Lana.... Motherless. A passion for investigation, for knowing the truth about things. Sarcasm and a talent for bantering. Nothing important.

When Clark walked in, Chloe was writing out a list of reasons she and Lex would never be "she and Lex." It was a long list, centering on her faults and personal issues. She was getting more and more depressed with every item she added, but she had kicked into impartial observer mode and she couldn't stop herself. "Dangerously obsessive," she wrote. "Focus on minutiae to the exclusion of the big picture. Messiah complex."

"Hey," said Clark, holding up a paper bag. "I brought you a sandwich from the Talon." He set it on the corner of her desk.

"Thanks," said Chloe, smiling feebly. "I was so busy, I didn't even notice how hungry I was." She added "blatantly transparent" to her list.

"For someone who's hungry," said Clark, "you're not too eager to eat."

Chloe looked up from her list. "Huh?"

"What are you working on?" he asked, turning his head to look at the paper.

Chloe flipped the paper over swiftly. "Nothing. Just wasting time while I'm waiting for this thing to print." She smiled again, her intentionally distracting smile. She had used it on Lex once. He had said, "You're not fooling _me_...is it working for you?"

Clark said, "Okay. Well, I have to go. I told Lana I'd be back before her shift was over."

"Bye," said Chloe.

Clark turned away.

"Oh, wait, Clark!" Chloe said, waving at him even though his back was turned and he obviously couldn't see her. "I almost forgot...Lex stopped by looking for you."

Clark frowned. "When?"

Chloe glanced at the clock on her computer. "About an hour ago."

"That's strange," said Clark, checking his watch. "That's about when he left the Talon."

Chloe couldn't suppress her grin. "Yeah," she said. "Weird. Well, who can fathom the mind of Lex Luthor, huh?"

"Not me, that's for sure," said Clark.

Suddenly Chloe wanted to be alone again. "Hey, when does Lana get off work tonight?"

Clark looked at his watch again. "Any minute now. Thanks for reminding me!"

"What are friends for?"

As Clark left, Chloe turned over the sheet of paper and wrote one more line.

"Hope springs eternal...."

She stared at that last line for a long moment. Then she laughed and tore the list into confetti.


	3. Definition of a Beginning

Lex sat at his desk, deeply engrossed in the week's financial headlines and trying not to think about last night's encounter with Chloe. Or any encounter with Chloe. Ever. He paused in his reading to rub his hand across his eyes.

The doors to the library swung open. Lex looked up, startled, and saw the girl he was trying unsuccessfully to banish from his mind striding across the room.

"Here's how it is," Chloe said. "I'm not Helen. I'm certainly not Desiree—witness shocking lack of pheromonal attraction. And I'm not Victoria. I'm not after your money and prestige; they might actually be drawbacks. And while I must admit to a less than healthy journalistic fascination with you, that's really how I deal with _everybody_. Just ask Clark." Lex opened his mouth, but Chloe held up an authoritative hand. "Not finished yet. I know I'm underage, and there's no way I'd bring you and me both down by trying to force some kinky illegal relationship. I figure it wouldn't kill _you_ to be friends with a woman in a way that doesn't involve benefits. And..."

Lex waited patiently, his expression hovering somewhere between amused and nonplussed.

"And...now I'm done," she finished lamely. "So...um...have a nice day." Her jaw dropped in astonishment at her own bravado as she turned away from him, wondering what had possessed her to come here in the first place.

Lex came around to the front of his desk. "I've never been friends with a woman," he said, interrupting her retreat. "Actually—and don't quote me on this—I don't have a much better track record with friends than I do with romantic attachments."

"I have a lousy track record with men," said Chloe. "But friends...friends I've been fortunate with." She extended her hand.

Lex looked at it coolly. "Don't take this the wrong way," he said, "and I hope this won't jeopardize the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but I don't think I can be friends with you if I shake your hand."

Chloe studied Lex's face. He looked back at her intently.

"Okay," she said, breaking eye contact and blushing. "No touching."

"I think that's the best plan," agreed Lex.

There was an awkward silence, during which Chloe's face became progressively redder and Lex found it progressively difficult to maintain a straight face.

"So..." said Chloe, "did I interrupt something important?"

"Yes," said Lex. Chloe looked up at him quickly, even more embarrassed than she had been before. At least now she was looking him in the eye. "But I make my friends a priority," he finished.

Chloe grinned, a trifle sheepishly. Lex tried to remember a time when he was as innocent as Chloe was showing herself to be with every move and gesture she made. It had been a long, long time, he realized ruefully. Again he felt a pang of guilt at associating with her at all—he could only bring her down.

"Speaking of friends," he said, "aren't you worried about Pete Ross?"

"Pete?" asked Chloe, thrown off. "What does Pete have to do with us…that is, with _it_?"

"Clark has told me about what my friendship with him did to his friendship with Pete," Lex said. "And…well, I've seen the way he looks at you."

"Clark?"

"Pete."

Chloe laughed. "Pete knows I can look after myself. And he's just a friend."

"An older friend than I am," said Lex.

"Only in the metaphorical sense."

"_Touché_."

"Are you asking me to choose sides, or are you just trying to shove me off onto Pete?" asked Chloe. "Because I believe I did say you didn't have to worry about me pushing this newfound friendship into the danger zone."

"I just don't want to complicate your life," said Lex.

She smiled and began surveying the room. "Too late." She took in the big screen TV, the pool table, the stereo, the shelves and shelves of books. Her eyes lingered on his computer where it sat open on his desk.

"So," she said, dragging her eyes from the computer, "what do you and Clark do for fun?"

"You interrogate all your friends this way?"

"Hey!" she protested. "You asked the first question! And I did warn you."

"We talk," Lex said. "And we shoot pool."

Chloe pulled a face. "I can handle the first one," she said, "no sweat. But I've never been able to play a decent game of pool."

Lex took two cue sticks down from the walls. "All the more reason to try," he said, tossing one to Chloe, who barely caught it. "Aren't friends supposed to improve each other?"

Chloe shrugged dubiously. "If anyone can."

Lex smiled. "Have a little faith," he said. "I'm sure you can do it."

Chloe took a deep breath and hefted the cue stick. "Okay," she said. "I'm in."


End file.
